


CS Hiatus Meme: Hand

by gillie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3187241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillie/pseuds/gillie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma really shouldn't be surprised when she comes home to find a rather interesting jar on Killian's bedside table</p>
            </blockquote>





	CS Hiatus Meme: Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This was unbeta'd because this plot bunny has been haunting me all week and I was antsy to share it with you all, so any and all mistakes are mine. Kudos and comments = love

Emma walked into her bedroom with a jaw-crackling yawn after a long shift at the station, wanting nothing more than to lose the skinny jeans and sweater in favour of yoga pants and one of Killian's new t-shirts she’s pretty sure he bought purposely for her to steal.  She realized she shouldn't be surprised, and yet…she’s stopped mid-stride when confronted with a sizable glass jar on Killian’s night table, containing his floating, dismembered hand in all of its pinky-ringed-and-busted-knuckle glory. She’s pretty sure it’s staring right back at her.  What is her life, even?

Of course, that would be the moment her pirate would walk in on her, while she’s still gaping at his hand until she remembers herself and forcibly closes her dropped jaw. Killian, of course, is completely oblivious to her discomfort, preoccupied with towel drying his hair after his shower. Emma cleared her throat to get his attention.

 "Did you plan to address the elephant in the room, Hook?"

 "The wha..."

 Emma quickly amended, "Forget the elephant. I mean..." she vaguely gestures toward his side of the bed, “...THAT."

 Killian had the good grace to look sheepish, scratching behind his ear nervously. "Ah, yes,” he acknowledged.  “That."

 Emma tried (and quite possibly failed) not to smile. "Yes THAT,” she challenged, looking at him expectantly. “Well?"

He sighed heavily, returning his now-damp towel to the small en suite before sitting down heavily at the foot of their bed, patting the space beside him. Emma obliged by sitting beside him and gave him a literal nudge with her shoulder to continue. “Henry and I were helping the Lady Belle do a spot of house cleaning at Gold’s shop, looking for clues about the origins of that damned hat when Henry found the jar and made the logical assumptions about its origin.  Belle thought it best she return it to its proper owner.”

 Entwining their fingers, Emma gave him a sad smile of understanding. “Yeah, ok, I get that, Killian. It’s yours, after all, and it’s something that should never be used against you again. But…”

 Killian looked at her questioningly. “But?”

 “... do you really need to keep it next to the place where we sleep and...uh, don’t sleep?”

 The bed shook with Killian’s laughter.

 “Where would you prefer I keep it, love? In the water closet next to your jar of fancy soaps?”

Yet again, she found herself wondering what her life was that they were even having this conversation. “I don't know, Killian. Just not right here? I know it's part of you, and believe me, I love every part of you, but the whole jar thing is hella creepy.” Killian leveled her with a look that rivaled Pongo’s when he thought Archie was dead. “Don’t give me that look, Jones. “ If anything, he pouted more. Honestly, he was like a six year old sometimes. Emma huffed in exasperation. “OK, fine. We’ll keep it, I never said we wouldn’t. But is it seriously important to you that we put it on display?”

 “Love, I know it looks like something grotesque to you, but it's a physical reminder of who I was, and who I never want to be again. And it’s become painfully obvious that I am in need of such blatant reminders.  As you often like to remind me, I’m an idiot sometimes. Gods above,  what kind of fool blackmails the Dark One? Twice?”

 Emma leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “The kind of fool who can’t comprehend that not everyone values love over power?”

“Guilty as charged, Swan.” He planted a kiss in her hair before putting his arm around her to draw her closer into his side.

After a beat, Emma looked up at him. “Do you miss it? Especially after having it back for like 3 minutes?”

Killian glanced behind them to regard the appendage in question. “Truly lass, not really. I’ve been without it for significantly longer than I ever had it. It's like it belonged to another man several lifetimes ago. Besides, the bloody crocodile cursed the damned thing, and it never really felt like...well, ME.” Emma could feel the tension grip his body the moment fear overtook him as he hastily added, “ Do YOU miss it?”

She disentangled herself to take both his hand and his hook in her hands, willing him to see the truth in her eyes. “I thought you said I was an open book. You should know by now that I don’t care about things like that. When I said I loved every part of you, I meant it. Besides,“ she added with a saucy grin, “that hook is kinda sexy.”

The wicked smile that illuminated his face should be illegal in several states. “Is it now? Why don't you tell me all about that?”

 “Oh, I intend to.” She toed off her boots with intent, realizing it would be at least an hour or two before she got to the yoga pants part of her evening. Not that she minded when her half-naked-and-still-slightly-damp-from-the-shower boyfriend was kneeling at her feet, first pulling off her socks before helping her peel off the skinny jeans she’d been squeezed into for the past ten hours. Emma found herself practically melting into the bed as he started massaging her unsurprisingly aching left foot when she noticed The Jar again out of the corner of her eye. She ghosted her fingertips over his face to draw his eyes to hers. “Hey---hold up there for a minute, Sailor.”

 “Swan?”

 “I promise we’ll get to the pillage and plundering, but not until _after_ you put your spare part in the closet.”

There was a promising sparkle in his eyes as he hopped up, grabbed the jar (she tried not to visibly shudder as it _sloshed_ ), and Killian hastily shoved it behind a few miscellaneous boxes toward the back of their closet that they never bothered to unpack when they moved in a few weeks ago.

“Done,” he bowed with a flourish before picking her up and bodily tossing her on their bed, making her laugh. “And now, Swan,  where were we?


End file.
